The Language of Love
by fishfaced
Summary: and even then.. "the heart speaks in a language which we know not, my child." Draco doesn't see what that's got to do why he feels faint whenever he's near her, though.
1. Chapter 1

It's a fine, sunny afternoon at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prefect, future heir to the Malfoy Manor, is very, very annoyed.

And the most annoying thing is he does not know why.

Even the blue blue sky outside seemed to mock him as he purposefully strode down the long hallways of Hogwarts with absolutely no idea of where he was going. As he passed numerous paintings and statues, Draco immediately knew something was wrong when he forgot to flash his trademark smirk at some giggling fourth-year girls. This bothered him so much that he lost his concentration and tripped over the caretaker's cat and scattered a bunch of scared looking first-years.

Shaking his head irritably, he continued to walk on, wondering what was wrong with himself toda---

Oof!

'Ouch! Malfoy! Do watch where you're going next time, because unlike you, other people would like to make it to their classes in one piece.'

Draco barely registered what was being said to him when he realised who had nearly given him a concussion. And suddenly he was speechless.

'Malfoy, I know you think it's funny to impersonate a goldfish, but I really don't think this is a good time,'

Amused brown eyes peered at him, and suddenly Draco was breathless and dizzy and his heart was leaping and pounding and the only word he could get out of his mouth was,

'Gr-Granger..'

'Yes, I am glad you know that is my name. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way.'

And without another word she swept off, her lovely frizzy hair moving with every step she takes..

Leaving Draco Malfoy standing there, rooted on the spot, feeling more confused and annoyed than he ever have been.

--

It is evening now, and the whole of Hogwarts have come together to eat dinner. Though, for Draco, there was not much eating going on, as he stared blankly at his roast chicken.

What was that strange feeling earlier today?

'..and so, i said to her....Draco! Drackie-poo! Are you listening to me?'

Pansy Parkinson, fellow Slytherin and an irritating attention seeker in Draco's point of view, was currently glaring at him.

He spared her a glance - Pansy wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, - muttered something about an upset stomach, and slipped out of the doors to the Great Hall.

Maybe a walk will clear his head, Draco thought, as he turned a corner of one of the passageways. And maybe he'll find out what's been bothering him--

Oh, Merlin's pants. Not _again_..

'Matilda, have you learnt nothing at Hogwarts? Love potions…this is the third I've confiscated this week!' She paused and sniffed gingerly at the bottle. 'Though I applaud your skill in concocting such..potent..potions..'

Draco's eyes widened as he backtracked, staying in the shadows as he watched the little girl cower before Herm---errr, Granger.

'But…but miss, I really, really like him...and-and he doesnt even l-look at m-m-me!'

Matilda looked like she was going to burst into tears any moment.

'Oh honey, please don't cry. You see, what satisfaction will it give you when you know, deep down, that you are forcing him to love you? And besides, feeling love's sharp, keen sting is always a life lesson, isnt it?' Hermione sighed. 'And sometimes you'll have to just accept that you…won't get your happy ending with your prince charming.'

'um…prince charming, miss?'

'oh, never mind, its a muggle story. The point is, Tilly, if you want him, you have to get him yourself. Love knows no boundaries, but it is a game you cannot cheat in. So come on, off you go, finish your dinner. And this is the last warning i give you, then it's detention with Snape. And we know how much everyone loves that..'

'T-thank you, Miss Granger!'

And with that, Matilda the second year Ravenclaw stumbled off gratefully, wiping her eyes.

Hermione sighed deeply, as if she was trying to put away a particularly bothersome thought, and turned around, about to head off.

'Never thought you'd be the type to philosophise, Granger.'

Stepping out of the shadows, Draco gave her one of his trademark smirks. Hermonie, on the other hand, spluttered and turned a delicate shade of pink.

'So tell me...what on earth is a Prince Charming?'

She gave him a half-hearted glare, which would have been much more effective if she wasn't blushing furiously. Draco - on pure whim, he tells himself - stepped closer to Hermione. Close enough to see that she has a smattering of faint freckles on the tip of her nose, close enough to count her long eyelashes, close enough to smell that sweet, flowery scent..

'P-prince charming is every little girl's dream.' Hermione breathed, looking up into his gray eyes. 'The one they wish to sweep them off their feet and live happily ever after...'

The way she was looking at him made Draco's throat constrict, and he would've said something, really. Would've, should've, could've...but that moment shattered when the huge doors to the Great Hall burst open and everyone poured out, chattering and looking forward to a good night's rest.

Perhaps she realised what was happening. But maybe the only thing on her mind was the fact that she was 'fraternizing with the enemy'. Whatever it was, her eyes flashed and she hurried off, leaving the mighty Draco Malfoy, once again, rooted on the spot, feeling a bit like a toothless bear.

--

He does not know how he made it back into the Slytherin common room and past Pansy - 'DRAAACO!!! I MISSED YOU!! IS YOUR TUMMY BETTER NOW?' - but as he gripped the sides of the basin in his bathroom and looked, really looked at himself, he realised he really hasn't been well lately. There were slight shadows under his eyes, and he looked much more...ruffled than usual.

'Maybe that's because of your little encounter just then,' his mirror said slyly.

'oh, shut up, will you?'

He grumbled irritably and walked out of the bathroom, throwing himself on top of his bed and buried his face in his pillow.

'The heart speaks in a language which we know not, my child.'

His mirror spoke again, this time with a hint of sympathy.

Draco muttered something incoherently into his pillow, turned over and tried to get some sleep.

First thing tomorrow, he'll find out what on earth a Prince Charming is.

* * *

so, what do you think?

i know i'm mad for writing harry potter fanfic, especially a dramione D:

should i continue this?


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the window and pooled around Draco's head.

'mmmmf..'

He had fallen asleep fully clothed, and as he discovered - when he stumbled out of bed and looked in his unusually silent mirror - he looked like crap.

'Blimey...' he murmured as he strode out to join the rest of the school for breakfast. 'What's happening to me?'

'DRAAAAAACO!'

He flinched as two sly arms wrapped around his neck.

'I MIIIIISSED YOUUU~!'

'Yeah, that's great, Pansy.' He was obliged to bear through her chatter as they walked into the Great Hall.

'..and he said, 'yes i did.' and i said, 'no you didnt.' and he said--'

Draco could feel annoyance building up in him as he got himself a glass of orange juice. Then suddenly, he got a brainwave.'

'Hey Pansy, do you know what a Prince Charming is?'

Pansy stopped mid-sentence, and regarded Draco with a mildly startled air.

'ooooh, of course i do! it's like, the most famous Muggle story! I, um, looked it up for um, background research.' She paused uncertainly.

'Oh yes, do tell me more..' A little persuasion won't hurt, right?

Draco tilted his head and looked at her beneath his eyelashes.

Looking like she'd just been slapped with a wet fish, she blinked said '..oh,' sounding a little dazed.

Hey, he should exercise his charm more, Draco decided, as he leaned back with a smirk and listened attentively to Pansy.

Unaccustomed to the extra attention she was receiving from him, she looked bewildered and continued on in a dreamy manner.

'Well, um, its like this tragic story where this man and his daughter lived in this huuuge mansion, and they were all happy and stuff. The girl was amazingly gorgeous and kind and all that, but then the father married an awful woman, who had two awful daughters, and they treated the girl like crap. When the father died, the stepmother made the little girl do all their housework and things, like a house elf. Poor girl,' she shook her head sympathetically. A look from Draco made her continue on.

'Well anyway, she had to look after herself and everything, and before long she forgot her own name, so like, because she was always like, covered in cinders, they decided to call her Cinderella.'

Draco still couldnt see what this had got to do with anything at all.

'And then one day, the Prince of the kingdom they lived in decided to hold a ball, inviting all the single ladies of the kingdom to come so he can find a wife. Because you know, Princes all want to marry someone beautiful.' She fluttered her eyelashes and giggled. 'But anyway, the stepmother and the two awful daughters all get dressed up for the ball, but they didnt like, let Cinderella go, which is really mean. But then, after the three leave, Cinderella's fairy godmother pops up and dresses her up by magic and turns a pumpkin into a carriage and she goes off to the ball!'

Muggle stories aren't really that bad, thinks Draco.

'So then what?'

'Well, she arrives and it was love at first sight for Prince Charming and they go dancing alone in the moonlight...' Pansy sighs dreamily.

Draco could feel his annoyance rearing up again. 'Yes, and then?' He prompted.

'Oh! And THEN, the clock strikes twelve!' She giggled excitedly. 'Cinderella cant bear to tell her Prince Charming that she's just a dirty little maid - much like Muggleborns, mind you - and she remembers that the fairy godmother told her that the magic will only last till the last toll of the bell at midnight, so she runs away! But she was running too fast and one of her glass high-heels falls off! She makes it home in time and pretends that nothing ever happened. But the Prince, who is madly in love with her, finds the shoe and orders to his guards that every maiden in the kingdom must try on this shoe, and if it fits than he shall marry the girl.'

Silly prince, Draco thought. Why doesnt he just force-feed them Veritaserum?

'--so anyway, the stepmother realises what has happened and locks Cinderella up so that the royal guards can't ever find her! But seeing that she's so gorgeous and smart, she manages to get out and she was JUST going to try on the shoe when the stepmother tripped the person up and the shoe smashed! It's so sad that they're muggles, they cant repair anything! But yeah, and then Cinderella holds out the SECOND shoe! The one that she wore when she ran away! that was proof enough that she was the girl, and so she married the prince,' Pansy paused dramatically, '...and lived happily ever after.'

Draco's mind was reeling. So why did seem to mean so much to Hermione, and what does he have to do with it all?

Though Pansy was a few branches short of a tree, her comment about Cinderella and Muggle-born made him think.

'So Draco, aren't I such a good storyteller? Aren't i? Aren't i?'

'Yes you sure are, Pansy. Um, I…forgot my bag. I'll just go get it now.'

And with that, he shoved a piece of toast in his mouth and dashed out the door.

In truth, he did actually forget his bag, but he needed to do some serious thinking.

If Hermione considers herself as Cinderella, who is her Prince Charming?  
Potter?  
No, Draco thought. Potter's going out with the Weasley girl.  
Weasley?  
Draco's insides burned at the idea of Hermione with Weasley.

As he found his bag and was ready to go to class, something occurred to him:

Why does he, Draco Malfoy, pureblood, Slytherin Prefect, heir to the Malfoy Manor... _care_?

---

The rest of the day passed without event, unless you count Goyle exploding his fourth cauldron in a row at Double Potions. Not that Professor Snape minded, of course. He was in Slytherin, after all.

After dinner – and staring at Granger, who just happened to sit opposite him three tables away – he lay on his bed and questioned his sanity.

Every time he sees her, thinks of her, or walks past her, his hands tingle and his heart pounds painfully, and for a few seconds he needs to catch his breath. He no longer thinks she looks like a beaver, and he notices that her eyes can be so warm, yet they can burn holes right into you. She also punches hard.

He swore his mirror said something like 'Ah, the pains of young love,'. He wonders if his mirror can read minds, or is just really annoying, but he was too tired to care.

Draco fell asleep dreaming of a strange, familiar flowery scent and laughing brown eyes.


End file.
